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me. I did not need him to love me. I only needed him not to shame me. I had no idea what he meant, mirroring his mistress’s words about being ugly on the inside—unless he recognized his own tendency towards arrogance and cruelty? He’d be a rare man if he did.
    “Thank you,” I said, scrabbling blindly on the floor to find my mask. I slipped it back over my face amid a wave of relief. The safety of the large, scratchy mask shrouded me. “You can do whatever you want with your mistress. I won’t complain. But please, do not shame me publicly. Have your pretty girls in private. When the world is watching, be discreet. And do not stare at my face. Never stare at my face. That’s all I ask.”
    “Sterling.”
    “What?” The way he said my name disarmed me, and I didn’t like it. A sudden light flared, and he relit his candle.
    He blinked as though surprised that I wore the mask again. “I will ask only one favor of you,” he said, all business. “Never touch me. If you can agree to that, I’m sure we can get along together just fine.”
    Tears threatened. “But how—what about children? Oh! I disgust you, don’t I?”
    “It isn’t that,” he said. “It’s—you’ve felt it, haven’t you? What happens when I touch people? Just agree, won’t you? I won’t stare at your face; you won’t touch me. It will be an easy arrangement.”
    He hadn’t said anything about children, though. My face and hands were hot with embarrassment, but I persisted. “What about an heir? Don’t we have to ... touch ... for that?”
    Erich’s mouth flattened into a taut line. “Accept the terms or don’t, Sterling. I’m not negotiating.”
    My stomach twisted. I thought of Papa, what he’d said about making sacrifices. He needed me to do this. “Fine. But remember, you cannot humiliate me in public.”
    “Of course not,” Erich said. “But do you mean to imply I can humiliate you in private?” He sounded as if he jested, but since he’d already dished out a fair share of both types of humiliation this evening, I did not find him amusing.
    “In private I can endure anything.”
    He laughed. “Oh Sterling! I’ve never met anyone who says the things you say. You’re so—honest. I worried about marrying. It was bound to be awkward, trying to explain the touching thing to a wife. But you understand.”
    I frowned. “No, I don’t. I felt it—whatever it is. But it wasn’t unpleasant.” I could learn to enjoy those sparks that erupted when he touched me, whatever they were.
    “Don’t lie to me now, Sterling. I wish for one other thing in our marriage—that we be honest with each other. Always. Even when it hurts.”
    I clasped my hands together. Though I appreciated Erich’s idealism, I knew too well how painful honesty could be with a face like mine. “I’m not lying. I could get used to your touch. I might even learn to enjoy it. We could make heirs. I wouldn’t mind even if it hurt. If you—” I broke off, hugely embarrassed. I had forgotten my face. I had forgotten how little he would want to touch me. This whole bargain might be a ploy so that he didn’t have to touch ugly Sterling Ricknagel, Her Royal Hideousness. My newfound trust in him disintegrated.
    Silence divided us.
    “I’m sorry,” I finally said. “I understand. We’ll hold to our agreement then? You won’t humiliate me, I won’t touch you.”
    More silence.
    “Did you mean that? That it isn’t painful? I mean—” He grasped my chin beneath my mask, and hot sparks flared at the contact. “That doesn’t hurt you?”
    “N—no. It’s like playing with a candle.”
    “A candle?”
    I shifted uncomfortably, but extracted the candle from the holder he held. I lifted it and tilted it, letting the liquid wax spill onto my hand, sucking a breath at the burn. The flame glowed a small sphere of light between us that seemed to tighten as I reached for his free hand. When I touched his glove, the odd spikes of our contact